


The Last Outlaws

by Katalina_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Disney, F/M, Genderswap, Girl Power, Inspired by Disney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:11:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19306693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalina_Riddle/pseuds/Katalina_Riddle
Summary: Ginny and her band of loyal friends are on the run, fugitives and outlaws in a time of dark magic and cruel reign. Voldemort will do everything in his power to keep his severed soul safe; including enlisting Bellatrix as his head sherriff. Her goal: to hunt down and kill the last outlaws. As the friends try their utmost to retrieve and destroy the horcruxes, Death Eaters will stop at nothing to maim and kill them. Between Ginny and the horcruxes stands an annoyingly attractive boy. The only problem is...he's on the wrong side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheFairestOfTheRare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairestOfTheRare/pseuds/TheFairestOfTheRare) in the [BTSS2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/BTSS2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Robin Hood & Maid Marian — Robin Hood
> 
> PROMPT: Robin Hood x Maid Marian
> 
> Gender Reversal
> 
> Characters:
> 
> Robin Hood: Ginny Weasley  
> Maid Marian: Blaise Zabini
> 
> Little John: Luna Lovegood  
> Will Scarlet: Harry Potter  
> Friar Tuck: Fred Weasley  
> Alan-a-Dale: George Weasley
> 
> Merry Men: Hermione Granger, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas
> 
> Sheriff of Nottingham: Bellatrix Lestrange  
> King John: Voldemort
> 
> Big love to my anonymous beta and alpha for keeping me on track and telling me what I need to hear. Love you guys!

_Run._

_Faster._

_You think that’s fast enough? It’s not. Faster._

Ginny Weasley ran faster than she had ever run before. The words of the Dark Lord echoed in her mind, the tenuous link between them refusing to disappear, connecting them by a single thread of memory and lives past. Leaves and tree branches cracked under her feet as she ran, the ferocity of her gait leaving a destructive trail through nature’s paths.

_I can still see you my dear. Keep running._

In agony and out of breath, Ginny forced herself to keep running. And then; deafening silence. He was gone. The cord snapped, and her mind was once again her own. She took a deep breath, trying to return her body function to normal, but the effort proved too much, and she gave in to a blackened world and the relief of unbidden sleep.

oOo

“I do not see her any more,” hissed the Dark Lord through a horrific grimace and clenched teeth. “She has, once again, outwitted you, you _miserable, pathetic excuse for servants_.” The Death Eaters, masked and hooded, stood with heads bowed beneath the weight of their Master’s disappointment and anger.

The Dark Lord turned away from them, hands clenched into fists so tight that great drops of thick black blood began to drip down his fingers. He let out a scream so loud and full of rage that the windows in the vaulted great hall of Mistlethwaite Manor shook, threatening to shatter on the congregation below.

“ _Bring her to me._ Do not fail me again, for if you do, the consequences will be... _severe._ ” He did not bother veiling the venom in his voice, and his supporters were met by the full force of his hateful sneer.

“ _Zabini_.”

Blaise stood in front of his mother as head of the Zabini household. Inwardly shaking and uncertain, he displayed no signs of weakness as he acknowledged his Master with a brief bow.

“Come here, boy.”

Blaise approached the Dark Lord, his footsteps reverberating in his own ears.

“I hear you are once more without a father,” Voldemort said coldly.

“Yes, my lord. He died last week. From Dragon Pox.” His answers felt automatic and rehearsed as they rolled off his tongue. It had been his sixth stepfather. The circumstances surrounding his death had been suspicious to say the least. His mother was clearly guilty, but with no evidence, no charges were ever laid. _Look at me. A scared Death Eater with mummy issues and a moral compass. What a disappointment I must be,_ he thought cynically.

“Ah yes. Dragon Pox,” Voldemort murmured. “Completely natural. Couldn’t have been prevented, I suppose.” His grip on Blaise’s shoulder tightened.

“And you are...the man of the house now, it seems. Give me your arm.”

Blaise had been dreading this moment, but he knew it was coming. All the men who were head of their families had to go through it. He rolled up his sleeve. Voldemort touched his wand to the black skull imprinted on his forearm.

“ _Morte Legato._ ”

_Lieutenant of Death._ Blaise shivered. It took a second for the snake to wind through the eyes of the skull on his arm, but every movement was painful. He gritted his teeth and grunted through the pain. Voldemort patted him on the back.

“Good boy. Go back to your mother, Blaise.” He paused. “ _Bella._ Come here.”

Blaise returned to stand with his mother, and Bellatrix looked smug as she pushed confidently passed him. “Yes, my lord?”

“Bella, the Weasley girl has evaded capture for too long. You are my best soldier. Find her and bring her to me. Your reward will be...worth it,” he purred, pandering to her obvious lust. “You are the only one I trust to do this, Bella.” His hand stroked her wild hair and traced her jawline. Bella preened under his touch.

“Yes, my lord, of course, my lord, it is my greatest honour to serve you, my lord,” she replied breathlessly. “The Weasley girl is _finished_.”

“ _No._ I do not _want_ you to finish her, Bella, that is _my_ job,” Voldemort said harshly, pulling her face close to his roughly, by her hair.

“Y-yes, my lord, of course you want to finish her yourself. It was a bad choice of words, I apologise.”

Blaise watched this scene unfold in dumbfounded cynicism. Bellatrix Lestrange, the epitome of all things wild and cruel, reduced to raw clay in the hands of Voldemort. He gave her all of her strength; and yet he was her greatest weakness. It was laughable. He mustered up all of his courage.

“If I may, my lord,” he enquired with forced politeness and civility, “but...what did the Weasley girl steal?”

Voldemort threw Bella to the ground as if she were a rag doll, and spun around to face Blaise.

“She stole something very important to me. Something worth far more than all the galleons in your bank vault.”

Blaise waited with bated breath to hear what this valuable object was, assuming it must be something vastly impressive. A Venetian chandelier? An ancient artefact perhaps?

“ _My diary._ ”

oOo

**“** Ginny? _Ginny!_ Wake up!”

A sharp slap across her cheek reverberated in her ears.

“ _Hermione!_ That was _way_ too hard,” a voice scolded. A male voice. Harry? Ginny’s eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the forest.

“No, it’s okay, I needed it.” She pulled herself up into a sitting position. The world began to fade out again, but she clenched her eyes closed tightly and breathed slowly. _There. That’s better._ She opened her eyes and looked up at the concerned faces around her. Hermione offered her a hand, which she gratefully took, and pulled her to her feet.

Suddenly surrounded by a throng of sympathetic well-wishers, she felt slightly overwhelmed. “I’m fine, I promise,” she said over and over again over shoulders and into chests as she was pulled into hug after hug. Until one voice broke through the silence.

“Did you get it?”

Silence fell over the relieved crowd. They all knew what it would mean if she had brought it back. She approached Harry calmly and quietly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let her through, their eyes trained on her every move. She stopped in front of him, and reached into her small bag. She held it up.

_The diary._

After a split second of silence, they roared with riotous joy and jubilation. She had done it. Harry pulled her into a tight hug.

“And you, Ginny? Are you still…”

“No,” she replied firmly. “I can’t hear him any more. He’s gone.”

Harry held her at arm’s length and smiled warmly. He had loved this wild, untameable, red-haired beauty once. Maybe he did still. But they were not meant for each other. The tides of fate had seen them too often pushed apart. He gallantly offered her an arm, which she took smiling, and the two of them walked together in comfortable silence.

“I got you something, Gin,” he said presently, as if gift giving was a regular occurence. Ginny tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that, Harry,” she replied softly, “but thank you all the same.”

Harry grinned. “I know I didn’t have to. That’s the point of gifts. If we _had_ to give them, they wouldn’t truly be gifts, now, would they?” His smile softened. “Besides,” he said, squeezing her hand, “I won’t have my best friend go giftless on her birthday.”

They reached the clearing where their temporary camp had been thrown together. It was a regular shantytown, a jumble of makeshift tents scattered haphazardly under the shelter of the forest canopy. It wasn’t much, but for now at least, it was home.

“Wait here,” Harry said, “and cover your eyes.” Ginny shook her head at him, but did what he asked anyway. The sound of excitedly chattering voices came closer as the rest of the outlaws filtered back in to the camp behind them. Then she felt something placed into her grasp. Her hands traced the sleek curvature of the wood, smooth and strangely familiar to her touch. She felt a thin wire, which, when pulled, resonated with a satisfying _twang_. “And...open,” Harry said.

It was a bow and a quiver of arrows, hand carved and finely patterned with Celtc knots. Ginny’s jaw dropped and she looked at Harry with incredulity. “Did you make this for me?”

Harry nodded and smiled. “Charlie did the embellishments. But I carved the bow and arrows. I thought you might like something extra to...defend yourself. It’s not a wand, and I know you are perfectly capable, but…”

“I love it, Harry,” she interrupted, throwing her arms around her friend’s neck. They weren’t together any more, but she loved him as much as her own brothers. At times, maybe more. He was her safe place, and maybe he always would be.

“Happy birthday, Gin,” he whispered.

oOo

Blaise sat at his oak desk in the elegant wood panelled study pouring over what seemed a never-ending pile of maps, blueprints and plans. He had been working well into the night. He rubbed his eyes, willing himself to stay awake. In his mind, none of this made even the smallest amount of sense. The Dark Lord split his soul into seven pieces and hidden them all to prolong his legacy and life...but now the paranoia was creeping in, and Blaise was being charged with guarding one of them. 

Salazar Slytherin’s locket was now in his possession.  _ But where to put it?  _ That’s what the plans were for. Trying to find a secure, well hidden, unfindable place to store a piece of someone’s soul was no easy task.

He groaned and shook his head.  _ Stupid locket. Stupid, stupid Death Eaters. Stupid life.  _ This was the life he was born into, and he was just going to have to take it on the chin and deal with it. Exhausted, he let his head slide on to the heavy wooden desk and his eyes close. He just needed a rest.  _ Just a little one _ . 

Ten minutes into his blissful nap, he was rudely awoken by an almighty crash coming from what seemed to be the drawing room. He lifted himself up cautiously and walked soundlessly to the door. He would never have admitted it, but his heart was beating at an alarmingly unsettling pace.  _ Maybe this is what fear feels like _ , he thought wryly. In the flickering candlelight, through the darkness, every shadow appeared to be moving. They darted like arrows past the corners of his eyes, never lasting for long enough to form a shape. He kept telling himself they weren’t real, just figments of his imagination, tricks of the light. 

But as he entered the drawing room, he collided with something that was definitely not a shadow. A hooded figure, dressed like a man but with the tell-tale womanly curves, spun around. Blaise gripped her wrist tightly before she could slip from his grasp. Putting the candle on the nearest side table, he directed a non-verbal spell at the low hanging crystal chandelier. 

“ _ Lumos, _ ” he muttered, then twirled the girl around to face him, pushing her up against the grand piano, tightly pinning her arms to the sleek instrument. He almost lost his breath. Girl was the wrong word. She was definitely a fully formed, well proportioned,  _ beautiful  _ woman. His eyes took her in from top to bottom in one approving glance. 

Her porcelain skin was scattered with delicate freckles that danced across her nose; a very finely shaped nose, one might hasten to add. Deep brown eyes stared back at him defiantly, dusted with flecks of warm gold. Her green velvet hood had fallen from her head, and cascades of auburn curls fell around her shoulders. Under his hands he felt her strong, muscular arms tensing. This was a woman who could take care of herself, he had no doubt. This point was proven as she struggled against his grip.

“Oh, I don’t think so, little miss,” he said in a low tone. “Tell me what you came here for.”

Her eyes seemed to reflect her hair at that moment, fiery and angry. “I think you know,” she hissed through gritted teeth. She broke one of her arms free and with one swift stroke to the jaw, she decked him. He hadn’t been expecting it. He lay flat on his back, breathing heavily, as she straddled him, pinning him to the floor, her face within centimetres of his. 

“I think I  _ do  _ know. But obviously, I can’t let you have it,” he said breathlessly. He grabbed her shoulders in a vice grip and rolled over, pushing her to the floor and holding her there with pressure from his own body. “It doesn’t belong to you. That, my little friend, would be  _ stealing _ ,” he aimed at her sarcastically. 

“I prefer the phrase ‘reappropriation of communal artefacts’,” came the quick rejoinder. “It doesn’t belong to me, you’re right. But it doesn’t belong to you either,” she said as she drew an arrow from her quiver and sheathed it in her bow, aiming it at him. “I could take you out, you know,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Take me out where? Somewhere nice, I hope. It’d be a shame to kill me on the first date,” responded Blaise with a streak of humour. He’d never had an arrow aimed at his head before. Especially not by a pretty woman. This was a first for him. With lightning quick reflexes, he picked up an empty candlestick, flung it at an unsuspecting Ginny and jumped over the settee, tackling her to the floor. The bow fell from her grasp.

“Why do you want it then, witch? What would  _ you  _ do with it?” His face came ever closer to hers. Right now, he had the power, and Ginny felt herself not minding that so much. She shook off the feeling.

“Destroy it,” she whispered. “I’d destroy it.”

The response was not what Blaise had expected. To be honest, he had thought this was some sort of test from the Dark Lord to see if he could protect the locket. His brow furrowed. He locked his eyes onto hers, searching them for the answers he wanted, trying to read her. His heart was pounding. He stood up abruptly, then offered her a hand and pulled her from the ground. 

“You are a worthy foe,” he said sounding suitably impressed. “And what, pray tell, is your name?”

His hand still gripped her arm. She grinned back at him. 

“They call me many things. Evil Witch, Problem, Thorn In My Side, Pain In The Neck, Red-headed Menace, Velvet Hood, Weasley Bitch...but my friends just call me Ginny.”

Blaise did a double take. “ _ You’re  _ the Weasley girl? You stole the diary then,” he said in disbelief. She nodded.

“I don’t know if you understand, Blaise. Voldemort, he’s evil. These horcruxes, his regime...it’s terrible. People are suffering at his hand. His is a reign of violence and terror, there is no more free will or democracy. Good people are dying, or becoming fugitives to escape his diabolical policies. We have to steal to feed them and their children. We have to take care of them because the governing bodies of the wizarding world have  _ failed  _ them. He needs to be destroyed, Blaise.  _ Now _ .” 

During this impassioned plea, Ginny’s eyes had filled with uncharacteristic tears. Blaise was shocked. This was a cause that this woman truly believed in, and it showed in every fibre of her being. He gently put a smooth hand out to catch the tears falling down her face. Honestly, it was slightly irritating how badly he wanted to kiss her right now. 

“But Ginny, if I give you the locket, my life won’t be worth living. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill my mother,” he whispered. “I have wanted to leave for a long time. I know him. He is pure evil. And his beloved pet sheriff is no better. But I’m in too deep, I can’t back out now. Can I?” In his whole life, he had never felt as conflicted as he felt in that instant. 

“One thing you learn when you decide to fight is that everything is a choice, Blaise.  _ Everything  _ is a choice. You can choose to stay here and be another of his violent, pathetic puppets. Or you can choose to do the right thing. Come with me. Bring the locket. Help. Me.  _ Destroy.  _ Him.”

Standing face to face, Ginny could see his brain working overtime. Stay or leave? Blaise leaned down to pick something up from the floor. “I believe this belongs to you,” he said, holding out the elegant wooden bow. She took it from him and slung it over her shoulder. She nodded in defeat and turned to leave. “And...I believe this does too.” She swung back around to face him. He held out an object dangling on a golden chain. Ginny gasped.

_ The locket. _

“I’ll fight Ginny. Let’s  _ take him down _ .”

He watched as her face changed, and she put considerable effort into trying to make sure her smile wasn’t  _ too  _ enthusiastic. 

“By the way,” he asked curiously, “what do the carvings on your bow mean?”

She smiled softly, but with a strong determination.

“Rise and rise again until lambs become lions.”

“Until lambs become lions,” he repeated softly. “I like that.”

Ginny pulled the velvet hood back over her hair. 

“Right then, Zabini. What are you waiting for? We have work to do.”

And with that, she spun around and ran from the manor, leaving Blaise to catch up. 


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny entered the encampment with a spring in her step that made her neighbors glance amongst themselves. The normally serious witch did not  _ skip  _ for crying out loud. Weasley was a sturdy sort of woman. 

The smells coming out of Luna’s tent made Ginny wrinkle her nose in consternation as she stepped through, and saw the petite blonde peering over a cauldron. 

“I smell rose thorne, belladonna, salamander tail, snake venom… Merlin, Luna, how have you managed to not blow yourself up?” 

Her friend merely arched an eyebrow, stating, “I am an excellent Potions Master who understands the fine line between sanity and madness, like potions ingredients.”

“I understand just fine, and stay far away from the line,” Ginny snorted, “you’re the one who likes to use it to play double-dutch.” 

“You’re awfully uptight today, what’s got your wand in a knot?”

“Nothing, I just worry about your safety.”

Luna peered at her friend curiously, “No, I don’t think that’s it. Out with it, Red.”

Ginny sighed and told her of the encounter she had with Zabini. When she was done, Luna smiled devilishly. “Is he fit?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Ginny giggled, enjoying the way her friend always seemed to know exactly how to loosen the tension between her shoulder blades. “I was not paying attention.”

“You need a good shag, and after Harry, maybe you need some loving a reformed bad-boy can provide.” 

Ginny flopped down on the floor beside Luna and laughed off her friend’s statement. “You could not be more wrong, my friend. Honestly, I’d be fine if I never set eyes on another male in my life. They are just too much to deal with. Besides, I have enough on my plate without having to worry about what some  _ neanderthal  _ thinks of me.”

Luna laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gin. But mark my words. Go and find one of those Great Unwashed and use him for a night. You will feel so much better.”

“I can make myself feel better, thank you very much,” snapped Ginny. She quickly backtracked when she realised how that sounded. “No...wait...you know what I mean Luna!” She felt her face flush red as Luna raised her eyebrows and grinned at her. Ginny heaved a frustrated sigh. “Okay fine, I need to loosen up. I will try my best okay?” She stood up and gave Luna a hug. “I’m so glad we can talk like this Luna. You really know how to make a girl feel better,” she said winking and shaking her head, the mischievous twinkle coming back into her exhausted eyes.

On her way out, Ginny paused in the doorway and turned back. “On second thought. Zabini? Yeah he is pretty fit.”

“Do it then, Gin!  _ You’ll see I’m right! Everybody loves a bad boy!”  _ Luna yelled at Ginny’s retreating back. Ginny just grinned and walked away, ignoring the confused looks from her campmates.  _ Let them guess _ , she thought.

Inside her own tent that night, Ginny tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position, her mind working overtime.  _ Ugh. Stupid trees swaying. Stupid hard ground. Stupid, stupid boy.  _ But try as she might to remove him, Blaise Zabini would not leave her head. She had no idea why. 

_ He’s not even that attractive. _

At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself. 

_ Remember what you’re here for woman. Until lambs become lions.  _

She shook herself out of her moment of weakness and closed her eyes. She groaned. Every damn time.  _ What, is he just going to invade my head now? _ They had parted on the edge of the forest as friends. Ginny had returned to her camp and Blaise to his manor, with the promise of returning as soon as possible with more information about the location of horcruxes. And, in what Ginny considered to be an unfortunate turn of events, she found herself looking forward to seeing him.

She picked apart his appearance in her mind approvingly.  _ Well. It’s better than counting sheep.  _ He was tall, but not too tall. Muscular and strong, but not overly so. His strong thighs had been accentuated by tailored grey pants, his dark skin perfectly matched to the soft shade. His face was striking, with well formed cheekbones, full lips and piercing brown eyes. The memory of his body pressed full against hers stirred something in Ginny that she could not control, and she moved her hand down to swipe at the slick wetness that had unexpectedly formed between her thighs. The swift movement of her hand against her tightness sent her into flashes of ecstasy, and she kept the motion going until she let herself succumb to the wave of pleasure.

_ Stupid boy. Get out of my head. _

oOo

Blaise lay back lazily on his bed, to all appearances lounging there without a care in the world. But the image was misleading, for inside his head, beneath the closed eyes,  his mind was racing. He had never met anyone like her before. In fact, if they had met under different circumstances, he would have asked if he could court her right there and then. But alas, these were not different circumstances. 

He had to think of a way to get information. Those horcruxes had to be found. Of course, there was one way, but he loathed to think of it now. 

_ Bellatrix. _

He knew she lusted after him. There was nothing in it, of course, aside from physical attraction. Anything that happened between them would always be meaningless and purely recreational. He groaned loudly and looked at the mark on his arm, a permanent reminder of his rank and place. Shuddering, he made up his mind. He would do it. But only for the information. 

Her knock on his bedroom door was expected. He knew she would let herself in. What wasn’t expected was the sudden fear and loathing that gripped his heart.  _ What am I doing? _

“Zabini. You called.” Bellatrix had never been one for small talk. She lifted his arm and pressed her cold lips to the permanent mark there. Blaise closed his eyes and imagined a fierce redhead with fiery eyes.

“I did. Bella, I need to know that the rest of the horcruxes are safe. That Weasley girl paid me a visit and told me she was in possession of five of them; but that can’t be true...can it?” He watched her face form an angry expression as the lie slipped from his mouth. 

“Impossible, Zabini. Impossible. One is in my vault. One is hidden in plain sight in Hogwarts itself. That  _ Weasley bitch  _ does not know where they are. If she did, the Dark Lord would know. He would feel it. And he does not. The brat lied to you,” she hissed as she pushed him back onto the bed. 

Once upon a time, Blaise might have enjoyed this interlude with Bellatrix. She was years older than him, but the things she could do to his body thrilled him. But now, she was nothing to him. This was a necessary evil.

Her lips caught his ferociously. He imagined Ginny’s soft mouth meeting his own with a fierceness belying her stature.

Her hands ripped his shirt off and explored his chest, playing seductively with his nipples. He imagined Ginny’s hands on his skin, a thought which made him groan with unrepressed desire. He hardened. And when Bellatrix took him in her mouth, it was the thought of the redheaded girl that finally pushed him over the edge.

Bellatrix got up and dressed. “A satisfactory evening, I assume,” she said cynically. She leaned over him, sensually stroking his arm. Seductively, she licked the mark on his arm from bottom to top, the tip of her tongue teasing him again. “See you at work, Zabini.”

Her departure induced a sigh of relief from Blaise. She was gone. He had the location of two more horcruxes. And the Weasley girl was driving him crazy.

oOo

“Well? Did you learn anything?”

Ginny’s urgent question brought an amused smile to Blaise’s face. She frowned at him. “What?”

“You’re so cute when you’re mad,” he teased, grinning. She slapped his arm. “Just tell me.”

He gave in. “Yes. I know where two more of them are. One is in the Lestrange vault in Gringotts. There is another hidden at Hogwarts somewhere. As for the rest, I don’t know, that’s all I could get--”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Ginny tackled him with an almighty bear hug.

“Okay...can’t...breathe…” he choked as he loosened her grip around his neck. Holding her, though...she was just the right size, fitting perfectly into his arms. Not wanting to hold on for too long, he let her go. Was it just him, or was that a glimmer of disappointment passing across her perfect features?

“Ginny, there’s something you should know. At least, I think you should. To get that information...I had to...I mean...Bellatrix and I, we…” he couldn’t get the words out. He didn’t know if it was shame, fear, or dread at Ginny’s reaction that stopped him speaking. But, finally meeting her eyes, he found his fear unfounded. He saw a little anger, disappointment and...was that pain? But he also saw a lot of understanding.

“What’s important is that you got the information we needed,” she said in a strong voice. 

He grabbed her hands and held them tightly. “No. What’s important is that you know that the  whole time...I was thinking of you. Not her. Everything she did to me, every last touch...I imagined it was you,” he said softly. “It was the only way to make it bearable. Ginny. Look at me,” he said, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye. “Bellatrix is nothing to me.”

Ginny nodded. “Alright then. Now that we’ve established that,” she said pulling away from him and shattering the moment, “we need to move. We need a plan. And you’re going to need to leave this house. Because as soon as Voldemort knows we’ve found the next one, he’s going to know exactly where the intel was from.”

Blaise nodded, seeing the sense in this. Bellatrix would know. And she fancied herself in love with the Dark Lord, so it was logical that she would tell him. “I’ll send my mother away. We have relatives in France she can stay with. I will come with you...if that’s okay, of course,” he hastily added on as he saw her eyes widen at his statement that he would stay with her.

“No, no, that’s...that won’t be a problem,” she replied, pulling herself together. He had caught her off guard, that was all. 

“So. What’s the plan then, Ginny?”

She grinned.

_ “We’re going to break into Gringotts.” _

And with that casually dropped proverbial bombshell, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, velvet hooded cape floating out gracefully behind her, leaving a shocked Blaise to collect himself and scramble after her. This seemed to be a recurring theme, him chasing her. He really shouldn’t.

_ But he always did.  _

oOo

“Harry, Ron, Luna, everyone...this is Blaise Zabini.”

A collective gasp went up around the camp, and everyone burst into a sudden chorus of protestations.

“But he’s a  _ Death Eater!  _ Just look at his  _ arm! _ ”

“He’s a spy for  _ sure! _ ”

“Ginny, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“We need to get rid of him.”

“Everyone  _ SHUT THE HELL UP!”  _ yelled Ginny. The camp went dead silent and everyone stood to attention. No one wanted to be on the bad side of Ginny Weasley when she was angry. “Blaise  _ was  _ a Death Eater, yes. However, he has given us the known locations of two more horcruxes. He has agreed to help us find them and destroy them. I think that is worth a little trust, don’t you? If you don’t, feel free to leave  _ immediately,  _ because he’s not going anywhere.” A stunned but respectful silence met this defiant outburst. Harry stepped forward.

“Alright then. We’ll give him a chance Gin. If you trust him, then so do I.” He offered a hand to Blaise, who took it gratefully and shook it firmly. A look of mutual understanding passed between them. 

“As do I,” Luna offered in an airy tone. 

“And I,” announced Bill.

“Us too,” echoed Fred and George.

And one by one, the band of fugitives pledged their trust in Ginny and welcomed Blaise into their midst before dispersing to fulfil their daily camp duties.

Ginny looked at Blaise. “You and I are on wood collecting,” she said shortly and strode off into the forest, armed with her bow. And yet again, Blaise was the one running after her. For ten minutes they gathered wood in silence, neither completely sure of what to say to the other. 

“I guess...thank you, Ginny. For...you know. For standing up for me. There aren’t many people in my life who would have defended me like you did…” his voice trailed off as his thoughts turned to his mother, and a worried expression slipped onto his face. Ginny saw, and understood. She automatically reached out a hand and laid it comfortingly on his arm, as though it was an involuntary reflex.

“I’m sure she understands, Blaise. You did what you had to. She couldn’t stay in that house.” 

Blaise blinked away the tears that had crept up on him unexpectedly and shook his head in wonder. “How do you do it Ginny? How do you all live out here without your parents and never try and contact them? It  _ hurts _ . I know my mother is conniving and scheming and probably a murderer, but...she’s my  _ mother  _ and I  _ miss her _ .” This heartfelt speech induced a fresh batch of tears, and Blaise fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of mixed emotions. 

Ginny knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug, awkward at first, but then tight and comforting. “You’ve got it all wrong, Blaise. We miss our parents every single day. But if we contact them, they will know where we are. They can be tortured for information. We love them too much to ever let that happen to them. And you’re right. It does hurt. So much. But it is for the good of everyone that we don’t contact them.” She pulled away from him and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. “The pain never quite goes away,” she whispered, “but in time...it gets easier to bear. We all have each other, and for now, that is enough.” She stood up and held an arm out to pull him to his feet.

Their arms remained clasped longer than was reasonable, and Ginny felt herself being pulled into the whirlpools that were his brown eyes.

“Well, well, well. How... _ touching _ .” The pair were startled into defensive positions by a sudden intrusion.  _ Bellatrix.  _ “Blaise, dear boy, you have been really rather  _ naughty _ ,” she said as she exploded into fits of maniacal giggles. “I’ve been sent to punish you. This is going to be  _ fun _ ,” she leered as she lifted her wand. 

Blaise pushed Ginny behind him instinctively. “Don’t touch her,” he growled.

Bellatrix laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, fear not, I’ll finish with you first. I hope you saw your mother before you sent her away Blaise, because you won’t be seeing her again.”

Blaise roared and launched himself forward, catapulting head first into her. It was clear she hadn’t been expecting it. “ _ Don’t you dare talk about my mother!”  _

“ _ Blaise!”  _ Ginny’s urgent voice from behind him was instantly followed by a quickly fired arrow. It’s accuracy was never in question, and the telltale scream of a reinforcement falling to the ground could be heard. “She brought backup. We need to shake them and go.” Blaise stood up and raced back to where Ginny was standing as Bellatrix cackled. 

“You see Blaise? You can not escape  the Dark Lord. We are  _ everywhere.  _ You and the Weasley  _ bitch  _ are going to die.”

“Not today,” Ginny hissed through gritted teeth as she let fire three perfectly straight arrows simultaneously. “Blaise.  _ Run. _ ” And run they did. Every now and then, Ginny would stop for the briefest second to let fly another arrow, never missing her intended target. 

“You’re really going to have to teach me how to do that one day,” Blaise puffed breathlessly as they ran.

Ginny grinned next to him. “Alright,” she replied, “but only if you teach me how to fight with that sword. I’ve always wanted one.” Blaise nodded in reply, concentrating on running, breathing, and not tripping over. Behind them, a small army of Death Eaters ran, led by Bellatrix. 

“ _ Don’t let them get away!”  _ she screamed, shrieking wildly at the top of her lungs. 

“ _ Here, _ ” Ginny whispered, and she grabbed his shirt by the collar and pulled him into a hidden clearing, one that she had clearly known was there. Her back was against a tree, and he was pressed up against her, as close as he could be in that moment. Her hands were still on his chest. In the silence, she could hear his breathing quicken, as did her own. They stayed that way until the melee had passed them. And a great deal longer. 

“Your heart is racing,” she whispered as she gently placed her hand over the offending organ. Without thinking, Blaise caught her hand to his chest and held it there. 

“You’re blushing, Weasley,” he teased gently. “Anyone would think you fancied me.”

Ginny laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Zabini. It’s from all the running, that’s all. Do you honestly think I would stoop so low? After all--” she never got to finish her sentence. Blaise pushed her back to the tree and crushed her lips in a ferocious, uncontrolled kiss. Ginny tried to keep her resistance up, but it very quickly crumbled and she knotted her fingers in his hair. When they finally broke apart, Ginny gasped for air. Blaise turned the attention of his mouth to her neck and shoulder blades. His hands explored her body, skimming her breasts, her curvy behind, and the slick folds at her centre, sending her into waves of much needed ecstasy. 

Luna had been right. Again. She had been tight. 

“You know,” she said breathlessly, “there is one thing you can do for me as a thank you for letting you stay here.”

Blaise briefly stopped the attentive manipulation of her nipples with his tongue. “Is there indeed?” he asked, equal parts curious and amused.

“Yes,” she replied with certainty. “You can get down on your knees and make yourself useful.”

He grinned at her with one eyebrow raised. “At your service ma’am.” He slid slowly down her, dropping kisses on every surface he could find. When he reached the empty space between her legs, he knew exactly what to do. He gently licked at the wetness he found there, causing her to whimper in delight. As he began to lick harder, her moans increased in both frequency and volume. 

“It’s lucky they’ve gone, woman, because they  _ definitely  _ would have heard you,” he laughed against her.

“I’m almost there, Blaise,” she groaned, her hands now tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He enclosed his mouth around her and darted his tongue inside her sporadically, a motion which sent her crashing into a wave of pure pleasure, and she let everything go. 

Minutes later, they both lay on the ground catching their breath beside each other. Ginny looked over at him and smiled. “Not bad,” she said cheekily. “I’m definitely the best you’ve had. And you haven’t even  _ had  _ me yet.”

Blaise smiled back at her. “ _ Yet, _ ” he emphasised. “But we have all the time in the world. I really want...to get to know you better, Ginny,” he said sincerely. “I don’t want another casual fling. I want  _ more  _ than that.”

Ginny became serious for a moment. “I want more than that too,” she whispered. “We could...go on a date? You know, in between breaking into Gringotts and Hogwarts, and destroying horcruxes, and avoiding Death Eaters and not being killed…” she trailed off, and they both laughed.

“I’d like that, Red,” Blaise grinned. “But first; horcruxes?” He stood and offered her his arm. She took it and sighed.

“Yes. Horcruxes.”

They walked back to camp that evening with lighter hearts, in the knowledge that they had someone with which they shared a bond, and that they were connected by more than circumstance. And when they arrived, they set to work, constructing the beginnings of a plot to destroy the enemy keeping them from their families. 

And for the first time in a long time, there was a feeling throughout the camp that had been missing.

_ Hope. _

Hope for a future beyond Voldemort. Hope for a future of love and discovery. Hope for peace and justice. 

Blaise and Ginny looked at each other across a crowded table and knew there would be many more nights of stolen kisses, planning, and making merry. This was their life now.

The life of the last outlaws. 


End file.
